Memoria Damnum
by Fallain
Summary: Tony Stark becomes obsessed with the idea of opening a portal to another realm, and in his experiments he accidentally catches Loki as he falls from the bifrost. The only problem is: Loki has amnesia. Taking place after Thor but before Avengers as an alternate path it could have taken if Loki had landed on Midgard instead of with the Chitauri.
1. The Fall

Memoria Damnum

This fic takes place after Thor, after Loki fell from the bifrost as an alternate version of what could have happened instead of what happened in the Avengers.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my fingers and my laptop as I type this. All characters belong to Stan Lee.

Warnings: For this chapter, none. Future cursing, sexual situations and Frostiron Tony/Loki.

Chapter 1: The Fall

It had become more than than a mild interest, it had become an obsession. Ever since his meeting with Nick Fury, he had managed to hack into a few of S.H.I.E.L.D.s computer files, finding a few folders listing a "New Mexico incident". And of course, as Tony Stark, he let his curiosity get the better of him as he read over the details.

It mentioned a Professor named Selvig and a young woman named Jane but most importantly, the fabled Norse God, Thor.

Tony threw himself into his research, alternating between reading about the real Thor, the Norse myths, the portal between realms known as the Bifrost and astrophysical. The myths seemed to alter from the real Thor, but only ever so slightly and he merely summed it up to the years past since these myths were first written on paper. Maybe Gods grew as mortals did, both mentally, physically, and from the mistakes in their pasts.

Another file he managed to snag from Fury's database, was one about the terreract. His father, Howard Stark, had fished it out of the ocean while he had been looking for Steve Rogers and refused to hand it over to the "proper authorities". The Stark name was known for it's weapons and Howard had refused to hand it over to what would become his company's competition. And after he passed, Tony stood by his dads wishes and kept it hidden as well. The only alarming thing was that his dad had never managed to harness its power and that S.H.I.E.L.D. had never tried to come and take it from him forcefully.

Reading over a report on it, he started drawing the same conclusions as the person who had originally written the report. That not only was the tesseract an energy source, that it wasn't even from Earth and it had fallen from Asgard, from Odin. With that in mind, it could be used as a portal to Asgard, right?

Tony told himself he was right, he was always right after all. And even though he had already made his place in history with his iron man suit, someday after centuries had passed, he would be replaced and forgotten with better inventions. But this...a portal to another realm, to be the first person to not only discover and meet other life forms but create a door to their world...he'd be remembered for the rest of eternity.

Everything had gone according to theory. The terreract glowed beautifully, mimicking the glow of the arc reactor in his chest and he wondered if this was coincidence or fate that him and this energy source should share something in common. They were bonded in a way no one could imitate or duplicate.

But then again, maybe being like him wasn't such a great thing. Arrogant and short tempered, he hoped that the tesseract wouldn't misbehave like he often liked to. There was only room for one huge ego in this tower and that was Tony's even though JARVIS liked to compete for second place. However, Tony really only had himself to blame for that since he was the one to design, build and program JARVIS in the first place.

He had set up a testing zone in his workshop after clearing away enough clutter to make room for a long runway that lead from an empty archway to where he was setting up an amplifier to the tesseract that would hopefully manipulate it's energies into opening a portal. Maybe if Tony could just see into the portal, just see what was on the other side, he could know what to expect. He could close it and then plan what he'd need to wear or bring with him to plan an excavation to the other side.

What he hadn't planned for, was for something to fall through the portal almost as soon as it opened.

He had fired up the laser, beaming it straight through the tesseract, it's light and heat mixing with the blue energy to create a stream of blue that seemed to pulse with life and energy as it warped and twisted in the archway, ripping apart the fabric of space and matter as the dark sky of space speckled with stars started to appear on the other side. Space. Tony Stark had SPACE in his basement.

Barely having a chance to enjoy the moment any longer or take a picture, something hurtled through the archway as if it had been thrown or dropped, crashing to the floor in a heap of black and green and what appeared to be armor.

There was a blinding flash of light as the archway protested anything actually crossing through it and the hole to space closed instantly, the laser behind the tesseract exploding from the defiant force and causing the tesseract to shut down, still slightly smoking. Tony was nearly knocked off his feet by the explosion but managed to duck down behind the control panel, peering out at the unmoving pile of green and black only when the sparks of electricity and fire died down as Dummy finally put it's fire extinguisher to good use.

It wasn't moving. The green appeared to be some sort of blanket, but looking closer, he could see where it attached to shoulders like a cape. Shoulders that lead to an arm covered in black leather and gold armor around the wrists, and a pale hand limp on the floor.

It seemed to be human at least. Slowly getting to his feet, he picked up a broom and used the handle to poke at it before daring to get too close. It still didn't move as he got closer and poked harder into it's side but with all the armor, maybe it couldn't even feel the wood. He crouched down and could clearly see the form of a human now, the other arm tucked under it's body and the legs under the cape, and once he brushed back the black mess of hair it revealed a humanlike face even. A pale face with sharp cheekbones, a pointed nose, small lips and dark eyelashes that contrasted against the pale skin tone, almost too pale, and Tony lifted two of his fingers to feel for a pulse on it's throat.

The pulse was there, weak and thready but there and he let out a long breath. This was it. He hadn't exactly gone to another realm, but he had brought home an alien creature. Or maybe even a demigod like Thor, he thought as he considered as he compared the armor and cape this thing had on to Thors. But where Thor's armor and outfit had been red, blue and silver, this one contrasted darkly in green, black and gold.

"Sir? Is everything alright?" JARVIS' voice came from over the speakers after a few tense moments.

Tony pushed back the cape, checking the man over for any visible injuries as the man let out a soft, pained groan and his eyelids fluttered in an attempt to open before slumping back onto the floor as he passed back out. For a second, Tony saw startling jade green eyes, misted over with pain and confusion.

"JARVIS, I need the number for a professor Erik Selvig and I need him on the phone. Now."


	2. Owen

Many thanks to my wonderful Frostiron RP partner that inspires me and patient beta, Kim. 3

Baldur hasn't been in the movies yet but I loved him in the myths and comics so I'm trying to work him in even if it's only in memories.

Chapter 2: Owen

He had been falling, seeing nothing but darkness littered with the glow of stars surrounding him as the cold, frigid air whipped past him. There was nothing to catch him, nothing to land on, nothing but never ending darkness that was swallowing him up.

Or so he had thought.

There had been a bright white light, blinding him, forcing him to clench his eyes shut tight as he literally crash landed through a wave of energy and landed roughly on a floor. His shoulder and hip gave a painful throb as they threatened to break upon impact and his head cracking against the floor had been the last thing he felt before a different form of darkness took him. The darkness of unconsciousness, as the energies that he'd passed through as he landed sizzled in his mind.

Once, he had been Loki Odinson. The third son to Odin Allfather and the younger brother to Thor and Baldur. Thor had been the strong one, Baldur had been beautiful and kind, and Loki had always been the odd one out, the mischievous liar. His emerald eyes contrasted with everyone else's crystal blue eyes, not just in color, but in darkness from the pain he had suffered from being the family outcast.

Then to find out he had been adopted, stolen from his own kingdom and throne so that he was forced to be raised in the shadow of Thor's greatness, to be shoved aside like the monster only Odin knew him to be, even if he claimed he had done it to save him, was more punishment than his fragile mentality could handle. It cracked under the pressure, struggling to form a plot to show Odin that blood or not, he was the better son and the rightful heir to the throne of Asgard. That monster or not, he was capable of great good. But within his mind twisted with insanity, his plan was warped and eccentric, only leading to his downfall of his pride, his honor, his family, and himself as he let go of Gungnir and fell from the bifrost bridge.

But as he awoke, his mind was not full of darkness, anger, betrayal and hatred, but blank. As blank as the white walls surrounding him as his jade green eyes slowly blinked awake and took in his surroundings. Some small part of his mind knew something was wrong, knew that this was the moment when he should be knowing where he was or who these people were standing over him, or what the mechanical devices that were surrounding him was, but it remained blank no matter how hard he struggled to remember something, anything.

One man was older, grey hairs blending in with his blonde hair as he looked over a chart, his eyes flickering back and forth between him and the chart in his hands. The other man leaned closer to him, close enough to see the dark individual lashes surrounding his dark brown eyes. His hair was dark brown, slicked back, and he had a strange beard around his lips, only around his lips, not reaching up to his ears and across his cheeks like a normal beard should.

"Hey buddy, you had a pretty rough landing." The strange bearded man poked at his arm and he looked down to find himself wearing nothing but a white v-necked shirt and loose black pants as he laid in a bed. Wasn't he supposed to be wearing something else? Something heavier? He struggled to sit up for a moment, but the man pushed him back down.

"Woah now, didn't I just tell you that you had a rough landing? That's a hint that you need to take it easy. I'm Tony by the way, mind telling us who you are?"

Tony spoke to him like someone would a scared child or cat, with a gentle tone that didn't suit him. He glanced over at the other man, and so did Tony, the both of us staring at him until he coughed awkwardly and set aside his chart.

"And I'm Erik. No need to fret, we're just trying to make sure you're alright." He gave him a weak smile before throwing a look at Tony that clearly said he hadn't been comfortable with introducing himself to a stranger from space, especially not after he had been directly involved with the Thor incident. But that was why Tony had called Erik Selvig in the first place. No one would know more about Norse mythology by now except maybe Jane and Tony didn't need more women running around his workplace. Pepper and Natasha were enough.

Now both Tony and Erik were staring at him, and he knew he needed to tell them his name. His name. Who he was. His breath hitched in frustration, his muscles tensing as his mind battled against the empty memories, needing to remember his name, who he was, where he was from, but continued to come up with nothing.

"I...know not my name..." He finally said, slowly and carefully and as the words passed his lips, he felt defeated, giving in to his memory loss.

Tony and Erik exchanged looks carefully hidden behind masks, yet still somehow reading each other as Tony sighed and Erik picked back up his chart.

"Back to block A, eh?" Erik joked. "We need to figure out a name for you before we can figure out what to do with you."

An hour later, Tony was still seated cross-legged on his bed with him, reading off names from a book that a ginger-haired woman named Pepper had brought down full of apparent baby names. Adult or not, Erik had argued that the best way to both jog his memories and figure out what to call him, would be to go through the pages and read off names until he heard something familiar.

They'd started out with Tony protesting the book and naming off whatever came to mind first. Chuck Norris, Hans Solo, Anthony, Howard, Stan, Aragorn, Severus, until Erik demanded he took things more seriously and he changed to flipping randomly through the book and reading off random names, Robert, Andy, Jeffery, Jared, Landis, Orlando, Taylor, Carl, before he realized this was taking five times longer and settled for just reading down every name listed. His voice had turned into a bored, automatic drawl until Loki finally perked up. His jade eyes darted to him and Tony immediately noticed, craving any sort of change that didn't have anything to do with him reading the world's boringest book.

"Owen? Is Owen familiar?" He asked.

Something flashed on the edge of his memory, on the tip of his tongue, begging him to remember, hinting that he was so close but still far. Owenson? Son of Owen? Did he had a father named Owen? Was he Owen? He slowly nodded and Tony threw the book out the window that Erik was standing next to in triumph.

"Owen it is then!" He exclaimed while Erik looked after the falling book aghast.

"What if that book hits someone? What if we still needed it?" He demanded.

Tony groaned, sliding off the bed and stretching.

"Erik, quite frankly I don't give a shit." Tony stated seriously. "If I ever see that book again I'm sending it to Fury to use as a torture device."

Erik gave him an exasperated look, but as "Owen" leaned over in the bed, he saw him write Owen on the top of the papers in his hand.

"Well then Owen, let's find out who you are."

Meanwhile on Asgard, Heimdall's brow furrowed as he stood on the edge of the broken bifrost, looking down into the dark abyss where his traitorous prince had fallen. Odin had finally managed to force Thor away, taking him back to the palace where they would mourn the death of the prince, the son, the brother, but feast and celebrate the safety of Asgard and victory.

Heimdall saw all, but even at times, his gaze faltered. Loki had been the only one able to escape his piercing and unwavering watch, by shrouding himself in magic that coated him like a cloak, making him seem invisible to any spies. Yet for seconds at a time, Heimdall could see Loki still. On Midgard, in human cotton clothing instead of Asgardian regal armor, sitting in a bed with two other men, humans. But every time he caught a glimpse of him, it quickly vanished again, flickering in and out like a bad connection, as if something had fried his magic and it was acting of it's own accord. The magic knew it needed to mask and protect, but it was fizzling in and out of control, and yet Loki seemed to not only be unconcerned, but to not notice it at all.

Deciding it was best to merely watch a bit longer, Heimdall let out a sigh, looking back at the royal palace only once before returning his watch to Loki on Midgard.

Back on Midgard, Erik had given up on testing for the night, both him and Tony close to collapsing on the desks confront of them even with the six cups of coffee that had been keeping them up and running and Owen was starting to look haggard and worn as well, exhaustion showing plainly on his already pale features.

They'd hooked Owen up to heart monitors, taking notes of his natural pulse, taking a blood sample, hair sample, putting the samples under microscopes and so far he was turning out to seem human. For a second, Tony had sworn that he saw ice particles mingling with the blood sample, but as soon as he had called Erik over they had melted, leaving no trace.

"Whelp, lock him up before you leave and good night." Tony yawned, shoving away from the desk to stand up and stretch, turning to leave before Erik grabbed his wrist.

"What do you mean lock him up? He isn't a pet Tony. And you brought him here so it's your responsibility to take care of him until he can take care of himself."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "That kinda sounds like a pet to me."

"Tony." Erik said in a tone that should have settled an argument if it had been against anyone who wasn't as hard-headed and egotistical as Tony Stark. So instead Erik decided he had no choice but to change tactics and pull his ace out of his sleeve. "If you don't do it, I'll call Pepper and she'll do it."

Tony cringed at that. After him and Pepper had broken up, their relationship had barely changed. She was still fussing around the tower, making sure he was staying out of trouble and not destroying the company or himself, but that was the problem. It was harder for Tony to move on like nothing had happened. He couldn't go back to the playful banter with her as if she was still just his annoying babysitter. And he didn't like the idea of her taking care of another man mostly because he knew he'd hear every single complaint that she had about it. And really, who has time to listen to complaining when they could be off...not listening to complaining.

"Fiiiiiine." Tony dragged out the syllables in an irritated whine. "Get up Owen, we're having a freaking slumber party."

"On the bright side, his hair is long enough for you to braid." Erik grinned. "Have fun girls."

If it was an insult, Owen had no idea. He reached up to twist his long dark locks between his fingers and looked at it thoughtfully for a second before Tony's patience slipped away and he tugged on Owen's arm to coax him out of the bed.

Walking felt foreign after laying and sitting, and apparently falling all day long. His legs felt shaky for a second, his feet threatening to betray him and let him crash to the ground as he took a few tentative steps and his body remembered the motions. At least something was being remembered.

He caught his reflection in a mirror as he followed Tony out of the room, startled by another person walking towards him for a second before he realized that the stranger was himself and feeling an odd sense of disappointment. Lifting a hand, the stranger mimicked his actions perfectly and he was tempted to reach out and touch it just to see if this was truly his reflection and not someone else messing with his damaged and broken mind before he remembered that he was supposed to be following Tony and looked away, expecting to have been left behind, lost and confused.

But Tony was standing there, waiting for him and watching him with a sad expression in those dark brown eyes. An expression that looked too close to pity for his liking and he felt a brush of anger, a dark emotion rippled deep inside of him, indignified that someone was actually pitying him. He had once been proud and noble, he could feel that deep down. He hadn't always been alone and clueless and this drastic change wasn't sitting well with whatever hidden memories laid in his mind still affecting his emotions. For a second, he felt the reflex to lash out, to knock Tony down, to prove to him that he wasn't weak and worthless, but the second passed, and he simply took a step towards him, to signal that he was ready to follow him again. Now wasn't the time or place for unknown anger or violence. Not until he knew where those feelings and urges came from or why.

Tony lead him past a white living room with a wall lined with windows and it was hard for Owen to not walk over to them, to peer out into the strange land that he had found himself on. He could see dark shapes lit up with lights as if they had stars inside of them, but the light was artificial and insignificant compared to the beauty of stars, of their fires burning as they died.

Forged in the heart of a dying star...

The phrase floated through his mind, a hint, something that he should remember dancing on the edge of his memory just barely out of reach. He closed his eyes and he could see stars, flying past him as he fell-

The memory abruptly stopped as he walked face first into a wall and heard Tony shout.

"And THAT is why we don't close our eyes while walking." He sounded irritated as he put an arm around Owen to guide him to the hallway. Owen bristled under his touch, but it didn't feel controlling, but comforting and protective, and he forced his muscles to relax until Tony showed him to his bedroom.

Tony didn't have a spare bedroom for friends or family because he had close to none, but instead it was decorated for what Pepper would call his "lady friends" that he brought home in case he sobered up on the car ride and changed his mind about letting them into his own bedroom for the night. Luckily for him, Owen seemed like he had complete amnesia and probably wouldn't question the purple silk sheets or the giant painting of Iron Man over the bed. Although he'd probably have to get someone to replace the high heels and dresses in the closest with pants and shirts or the poor man would stumble out of the bedroom tomorrow dressed like a stripper. He let his brown eyes flicker over the strange man that'd fallen out of space in consideration. He had nice long legs, long dark hair, and a slender figure... he probably wouldn't look half bad in one of the dresses actually.

Shaking the thought out of his head, he decided to go ahead and take the dresses out to avoid an awkward situation in the morning when there was a knock on the door and Erik's voice called him outside.

"Stark, the catscan is back early. I think you need to take a look at this."

Tony groaned, slipping out into the hallway and letting the pile of clothes drop to the floor.

"And it can't wait until tomorrow?"

"Not if I know you. Which I do." Erik passed the catscan over to Tony that they had taken of Owen to see where he had hit his head, where the brain would be swollen and blocking brain wave patterns that would alter his capability to remember anything. But looking at the transparent paper, his brown furrowed. There was nothing wrong.

"This can't be right. I HEARD that guy hit the ground. It was like a firecracker going off." Tony mumbled.

"Fireworks or not-"

"Firecracker." Tony corrected, not liking his words being twisted no matter how small.

Erik gave him an irritated stare before continuing. "FireCRACKER or not, if it's not physically induced amnesia, it's got to be emotional based."

"Or he could be faking it. I mean, if I was some big bad guy from outer space I'd probably feign amnesia to get close and learn about the new world I landed in." Tony blurted out before remembering the way Owen had seemed so lost when he looked at his reflection and how he had walked straight into that wall. Sighing and rubbing his forehead as he felt a headache coming on, he knew he'd regret asking. "So emotional based amnesia...? What does that even mean?"

"Means basically, he went through something so traumatic that his mind shut down. Refused to cope. It's blocking the memories to protect itself from the pain they cause. And I've gotta admit, it makes sense. You said you saw nothing but space on the other side of that portal? What was the guy doing in the middle of space? How did he get there? What happened to him? His armor resembles Thor's so why would he not be in Asgard?"

"Well those are questions we'll probably never know the answers to if this amnesia keeps up." Tony threw him a disgruntled look, hating not knowing the answers to anything. Owen was a giant puzzle dropped out of the sky and he was determined to find the right pieces to fit until he figured it out.

Back inside the bedroom, Owen looked at the purple sheets and white blanket with distaste. The walls were white, the floor was white, and the only part of the room that Owen actually liked was the black bookcase in the corner. Closing his eyes, green flashed through his mind. Green canopy bed, and fur rugs and a fireplace burning bright but as soon as he opened his eyes the memory was gone and wouldn't return. It had simply reminded him that this Owen, was not who he was supposed to be. This room was far from where he was supposed to be and the men's voices through the door was telling him that there was little hope for him to return.

Tony poked his head back into the room, somehow looking even more exhausted than before.

"A few quick pointers, don't open the windows, don't jump out the windows, don't wear any of the shoes in the closet and the bed is for sleeping."

The door closed with a snap before quickly opening again to show Erik.

"And the bathroom is right across the hall and Tony is in the bedroom at the end of the hall if you need anything. Good night Owen."

"Good night..." Owen mumbled back as the door shut again and he listened to Erik trying to lecture Tony to be more patient and nicer to him, wondering if it'd actually be a good night at all and just how dimwitted they thought he was. Plopping down on the bed, he looked around the room, grimacing again at all of the white. All he could remember was darkness so the white seemed so clear and defiantly different that it almost hurt his eyes to look at. White was a color that signified purity, innocence, and nobility. He was none of those, no matter what memories were missing, he knew this didn't fit him.

Sleep didn't come easily, no matter how he tossed and turned in the bed. Every time he started to get comfortable and drift off, his body expected to feel a fur blanket against his skin and he'd move, just a fraction, just enough for his mind to snap wide awake when it realized it was fabric and not fur.

Staring at the ceiling didn't help, and looking out the window certainly didn't help as once he did, he found it harder and harder to obey Tony's last words of advice, wanting to open them and slip outside to sit on the ledge. A falling sensation overtook his mind at the thought, forcing him to topple out of bed, shaking his head until the darkness and stars and swirling galaxies faded away from his mind.

Standing up on shaky legs, he took a deep breath, opening his door to creep out into the hallway. Without the lights on or Tony in front of him, this place seemed more foreboding, almost forcing him to turn and return to bed to try attempt number thirty-nine at sleep. But quietly padding down the hall on bare feet, trying his best to not make a sound but feeling the eyes of the security camera on his back at all times, he peeked inside the door at the end of the hallway.

Sure enough, there was Tony, sound asleep in bed just like Erik had told him he would be. It seemed cruel and selfish to wake him up just because he couldn't sleep, after all, why make them both deprived of sleep instead of just himself? But he couldn't go back now that he was here. Maybe if he waited long enough, Tony would awaken on his own. He doubted the man could help him sleep, but what else could he do?

There was a large crimson red, recliner chair near the window that he chose to curl up on, tucking his legs up onto the cushion and leaning back to find a comfortable spot to rest his head. There was another bookcase in here, lined with more interesting looking books than the other room and he was tempted to take one down, try to read, try to learn for himself the workings of this world. But the moonlight streaming through the window wasn't enough light to read by. Only enough light to see Tony on the bed, the sheets rumpled around him as if he had shifted onto a few times before his mind and body gave in to the sleep they so desperately needed. His hair was disheveled on the pillow, seeming black, and his skin seemed tanner in the dark. Owen held out his own hand in the moonlight, his own pale skin seeming to glow and snorted in the obvious difference between Tony and him.

Folding his arms over his chest in a more comfortable fashion, his eyelids started to slowly droop as he watched Tony sleep and he was all too aware of how creepy this would be for Tony to wake up to. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do about that anymore, as his mind finally surrendered to sleep.


	3. Combat

Chapter 3: Combat

Warnings: Still no warnings yet, we'll save those for the next chapter.

There's not a long list of things that Tony Stark expects to see when he wakes up. The sun shining too bright through the windows, his pillows too up close and personal, or maybe even a woman still naked beside him.

He doesn't expect to see an alien with amnesia that just dropped out of space, curled up like a kitten, sound asleep in his recliner.

His first reflex is irritation that he's invaded his room and anger at Erik since he was the one who told him where his room was in the first place. But taking a closer look at how the dark circles under Owen's eyes seemed smaller and less dramatic and how relaxed he looked, Tony let out a sigh and battled against himself to wake the guy up. On one hand, he couldn't just leave him there. Not just because it was Tony's room and he didn't like people in his room, but because if the guy sought out company in the middle of the night, he probably didn't want to wake up alone. But on the other hand, Tony was loathe to wake up someone who looked like they so desperately needed the sleep.

Figuring he'd make up for it later by forcing Owen into a nap or to bed early, he got out of bed to hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder. For a second he felt something jolt him, like a thrum of energy running through the guy's body, almost like electricity, but then the second passed and he felt nothing but the natural firm curve of his shoulder under his palm and he gave him a rough shake.

Owen's eyes flashed open, his hand darting out to grab Tony's as soon as his eyes were open, twisting Tony's wrist as he slid out of the recliner to twist his body around until his back was to Tony and throwing him over his shoulder to flat on his back on the floor. And that's where Tony laid with brown eyes wide open in shock as he looked up into Owen's emerald eyes, clouded with hazy confusion for a second before they shone bright with recognize and he quickly let go of Tony and backed away as if he was horrified with his actions.

Owen's pulse raced, his muscles were tense and his body kept feeling the urge to move, to lash out again, to fight. He had lashed out as soon as he was awake and felt threatened without even thinking about it, his body moving without thought as a reflex as if it had been trained to do this it's entire life. And it had felt great. He had easily over-powered and triumphed over Tony and it left him feeling exhilarated and full of energy.

Tony seemed to finally come to his senses and picked himself up off the floor, eyeing him warily.

"What were you doing?" Tony asked, honest curiosity in his voice, not about the way Owen had just handed his ass to him in his own bedroom, but about what he had been doing during the night.

"I was watching you sleep. Waiting." Owen responded simply and innocently as if there were nothing wrong at all with the statement.

Tony gaped at him, taking a second to collect his thoughts from where they had screeched to a halt like a train wreck and shook his head.

"That's...creepy. That's probably something you shouldn't tell people. In fact, that's something you shouldn't DO in the first place."

Owen was giving Tony a confused and agitated look, and he didn't like that look in those green eyes, so he flipped back to the only other subject that he could switch to at the moment.

"So...I'm willing to bet you were trained for combat." He said and Owen detected a hint of bitterness, maybe even anger in his voice and his brown eyes were full of resentment that he had been taken by surprise and defeated all within seconds and Owen was willing to bet that Tony Stark had that look in his eyes because he wasn't someone who often lost to anyone.

Owen shrugged, standing up also and realizing for the first time that he was not only taller than Tony, but taller than him by a good foot and the other man had to actually look up to him. Another emotion flitted through Tony's eyes as brown locked onto green and he seemed to have the same thought process and resented him for his height advantage too, not liking to look up to anyone.

"I wouldn't know." Owen said simply.

"You act like it at least. Moves like that...they come from a lifetime of training, not just some once a week trip to the gym to feel better about eating your emotions away with ice cream. You don't forget stuff like that. It's hardwired into your body like riding a bike."

Owen tilted his head curiously, not understand most of the metaphors he just used such as ice cream, gym, or bike but not wanting to acknowledge his confusion out loud.

Tony rolled his eyes in exasperation as if he could read his mind, going over to his closet to at least change into a clean shirt. As he pulled off one shirt and tossed it into a basket on the ground, Owen caught a glimpse of something bright and blue, seeming to glow, coming from Tony's chest and he moved closer to get a better look. Tony quickly pulled on a new black shirt, but not before Owen's breath caught in his throat as he caught a glance at something unnatural that seemed to be impaled into the man's chest and his eyes darted to Tony's to stare at him in shock.

"It's an arc reactor." Tony told him with almost a bored tone as he caught Owen's look, a look he was used to receiving when people saw the arc reactor for the first time.

"That explains nothing to me." Owen whispered and now that he knew where to look, he could still see the slight glow through the blue shirt and the way it pressed against the middle of his shirt.

Tony shrugged. "It doesn't need explained right now. Maybe if you're a good boy we'll have story time later." He said distractedly as he pulled on a watch and ran a hand through his hair to try and slick his bangs away from falling into his face. "Now come on. Let's get back downstairs and see if we can test out just how experienced you are."

Owen mimicked his gesture in his hair, his long black strands easily staying back and finding that it was much easier and comfortable to move and look around without them constantly hanging in his face. If he had any questions about what experience Tony was talking about, he didn't ask, as he followed after him. In the daylight, he could scan the hallways and rooms that they passed by, his eyes taking in every detail, every object, and quietly filing it away in his memory in case he'd have need of a mental map later.

With his memories gone, he still had no inkling of his name, his parents, his childhood or what had happened to him before he fell to this strange place. The only thing he knew for sure was the anger burning deep inside of him. The anger that made him feel mad and twisted inside, wanting to hurt others until they hurt like he did. Did that come from the fall, or from an event before the fall? Were those emotions pointed directly at Tony, or someone else on the edge of his memories that Tony was taking the blame for?

Those thoughts only spurred on the need to take inventory of every single window and door they passed by, in the case that he may need to escape from this tower. There were large vases, decorative swords on the walls and heavy furniture that could be used as weapons or as shields if it came down to a fight, but at least after the situation in the bedroom, Owen had a feeling he could win in a fight.

It was these thoughts that accompanied him to mull over as he sat idly by while Tony and Erik spoke in a soundproof room, most likely about him. One thing about himself that Owen was quickly learning, was that he wasn't a patient man. Boredom and waiting didn't suit him well, and he found himself twiddling his thumbs, his fingers itching for something to do, almost to the point of making his entire body twitch in agitation. Picking up a magazine with a strange metal thing with what looked like four wheels on the cover, he flipped absent mindedly though the pages, words such as "Ford" and "Mitsubishi" meaning nothing to him.

Until something else caught his eye. On a page labeled "Toyota" there was a large silver symbol at the top over one of the "cars". It was a wide circle, with a long and narrow circle inside and a strange U shape crossing at the top, inside both of them, looking like horns. Closing his eyes, horns flashed through his mind. Tall, golden horns, sitting atop a long and narrow circular shape, some ones head, a face. Opening his eyes again, he traced a finger along the circles "horns" absentmindedly, imagining them gold and imagining the other circle green. It helped urge his memories on, flickering in and out of focus in his mind like a dying flame that couldn't stay lit. Something beside the golden horns shone through the darkness of his mind for a moment. Silver wings...

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Tony slamming open the door with no grace whatsoever and gesturing for him to follow him into the room. The room itself was plain and white, and seemed to be insulated and soundproof beyond all reasoning. At the end, there seemed to be heavy bags hanging on chains, and on a far wall there were dark shapes in the simple form of a human body, some of them with tiny holes in them.

Erik was at a table, laying out a variety of what looked like weapons. Weapons. His mind easily gave him the word like an answer. These were weapons and these human men were going to use him as a guinea pig once again, testing him to see just what he could do. The anger inside him bristled again, his blood running hot as a strange cold sensation ran through his body at the thought that they were using him, but he wanted answers just as badly as they did. Tests be damned, he wanted to know what he was capable of.

Tony brought one of the heavy bags close and hooked it's chains to a hanging hook from the ceiling, patting it with a grin, and Owen could see the way his muscles tensed and relaxed with each movement, tilting his head in silent consideration. Tony was excited. He'd known the man barely a day, but he was observant and a quick learner, and he could tell by the way his brown eyes were lit up and practically twinkling with excitement. He was like a child, and Owen was the new toy that he had gotten to play with, and he expected the anger to come rushing back, but instead his body was welcomed by an unknown fluttering feeling in his gut, making him feel lightheaded and uneasy. Tony took a step towards him, and his senses were suddenly full of him, of his scent, of every color in his eyes up close, in the way his t-shirt clung across his torso, stretched too tight across the strange object he called an arc reactor in his chest and Owen automatically took a step backwards.

"Woah there, we're not going to do anything. Me and Erik are going to step away and let you have some fun, yeah? Just consider this room your playground. And those are your toys." Tony gestured to the table of assorted objects. "Just try to not destroy the whole room."

"I make no promises." Owen responded honestly, to which Tony shrugged as if he didn't actually care if the room was destroyed or not.

Erik had laid out nametags on each of the weapons for Owen to test out for himself. For himself he kept telling himself. He kept trying to remind himself that he was only doing this to try and unlock some of his own memories, to find out what he was capable of if he needed to fight, and to test his own limits. It took more strength to ignore Tony and Erik and their damned clipboards than it did to use most of the weapons.

The first one he went for was the hammer. It called to him, heavy and sturdy and taunting, but soon after picking it up, the rage overtook him, worse than he'd felt it before and he threw it across the room in a fit, not wanting to be near it anymore. If possible, he would have ripped every molecule from it, destroying every inch until it could never be used again. Hatred burned deep in his gut for the hammer and he didn't know why, but he quickly picked up the very next weapon, a sword.

The sword was boring. Twirling it in the air a few times, he demonstrated a grace with it, as if they were two lovers dancing instead of preparing for battle. He dropped it after only a few moments, having no desire for something so simple and tedious. Next was something called a gun, which he carefully picked up and stared at for a long few seconds. It had a strange sort of trigger in front of the handle, and a long nose with a barrel, as if something shot out. He lifted it closer, to try and peer down into the hole when Tony rushed forward and grabbed it out of his hand.

"Careful-" He made a frustrated sound as he cut himself off right before a mindless insult slipped from his lips and gave Owen the impression that numerous different words for "idiot" were currently rushing through Tony's mind.

"You're going to shoot yourself in the face and die if you keep that shit up." He continued, holding the gun so the barrel was facing away from him, and aimed at one of the targets in the back of the room. "You hold it like this, see?"

Looking over, they locked eyes for only a second before Tony rolled his, and crossed behind Owen to wrap his arms around his shoulders, grabbing his hands and placing the gun back into them. Owen gripped the gun the same way Tony had, but Tony's arms remained around him, his hands over his to show him how to properly hold the gun, and his voice was suddenly in his ear, far too loud and his breath far too hot on his earlobe thanks to their height difference, sending a strange tingling sensation down Owen's spine that was making his knees feel weak.

"You hold it like this, and then see that? That's the trigger. Point at what you want, which should NOT be your face, and pull the trigger." Or at least that's what Owen thinks he heard. If Tony said anything else, the words were lost on him as he battled to keep himself steady and standing upright, as Tony's fingers tightened around his, coaxing his own finger to pull the trigger.

The shot echoed off the walls and made his ears ring, stumbling backwards against Tony's chest and closing any space that had been left between them. Shivering, and not knowing if it was from the sound or from being so close, he dropped the gun despite Tony still holding his hands.

"I do not like that one." He said with an edge of disgust in his voice for how unnecessarily brutal it seemed.

Tony smiled grimly.

"I'm not too big of a fan of guns either but sucks for us that they're the most popular." His arms left from around him as he stepped away to pick up the gun, looking at it thoughtfully with a saddened, far-away expression in his large doe eyes before carefully setting it back on the table. "But I can't exactly say I hate them since it's how Stark became a billionaire name."

As with the arc reactor, Tony gave him no chance to ask questions, already walking away by the time Owen turned to look at him. Erik was watching them reproachfully from far away, and he couldn't help but wonder what that had looked like from an outsiders view. Had he looked like a courageous warrior learning a new weapon from an expert, or had he looked like a trembling maiden in the arms of a Casanova? The second option made him feel sick to his stomach with shame.

His hand easily glided to the spear next, as if it knew an old friend that it needed to be requited with. This was familiar. Holding the spear in his hand, he felt a surge of power, an overwhelming feeling of importance and might and an adrenaline rush of energy and the need to fight. Lashing out, he sliced through the punching back with it, watching the sand spill out like pale, solid blood from a wound. A few more movements, and he lost himself. It could have been minutes or hours as he let the spear lead his body in strikes against imaginary foes, barely hearing Tony's voice suggesting it was time to move on and returning the spear to the table with a heavy heart filled with regret that he had to let go of it.

Daggers were just as friendly, dancing gracefully from his fingers as if they had never been there in the first place, but running out of them far too quickly. The quiver and bow was bulky and annoying, but not outside of his skillset and he flat out disliked the axe, finding it too heavy and blunt to be wielded gracefully as he preferred with the daggers and spear.

Meanwhile, as Tony and Erik jotted down notes about Owen and kept record of his energy levels and body temperature, Heimdall on the broken Bifrost bridge turned towards the palace of Asgard to start the long walk to the main hall of Odin.


	4. Personal Space

Many thanks to my patient beta Kim, who didn't murder me for my long writer's block issue and thanks to Rayne for helping give me an idea to re-inspire me.

I'm so sorry this chapter took so long, the next will be up quickly.

Chapter 4: Personal Space

Tony tossed and turned in his sleep that following night. He couldn't get Owen, the mysterious dark-haired alien that had fallen from space almost right into his lap, out of his mind. Every time he closed his eyes he saw those damned jade eyes, bright and curious but holding back so much unknown pain. And Tony was no idiot, he didn't miss the flicker of anger that flashed through them at times. Which just made him all the more convinced that hidden memories that were too painful for Owen to be able to handle remembering.

Which only raised the question of what would happen to him once his memories came back. Because with this type of amnesia, he had no doubt they would someday. He just worried that when that day came, it'd be explosive and uncontrollable, and might break what was left of the man harboring them inside his mind.

But for the moment, Tony's own memories were full of Owen. Of the way he gracefully danced around that spear, lost in his own world, connecting with the weapon in a way a dancer connects with the music that takes over their body and makes them whole. He couldn't forget the way he had felt in his arms, warm and steady, but with the slight tremor that Tony had convinced himself that he'd imagined.

He kept opening his eyes, waiting for him to be there, in the recliner, either sleeping or watching him like he had been apparently doing last night, but he had a feeling that after he had explained how creeper-tastic it was, it wouldn't happen again anytime soon.

Leaving Tony no option but to convince himself to get out of bed for a glass of water. Which involved passing by Owen's room so it wouldn't hurt to peek in and make sure the guy was sleeping alright.

He wasn't.

When Tony pushed open the door a crack, just enough to peek in, he saw the tell-tale dim glow of a lamp, and pushing it open wider revealed Owen sitting up in bed, pouring over several books that Tony recognized from his own library.

"Can't sleep?" Tony barely spoke louder than a whisper but it still felt far too loud as it broke the silence and Owen jerked his head up to look at him like a deer in headlights.

"Is it obvious by the way I'm not asleep?" He responded as soon as he seemed to find his tongue, and Tony laughed. Even with amnesia the guy seemed to be a spitfire. Just the way he liked him.

Shaking his head, Tony got those kind of thoughts out of his head. He liked his women and occasional men feisty and snarky, but this was a damaged and lost guy that wasn't looking for a romp in the bed even if he remembered what sex was. But that train of thought only lead Tony's mind down the gutter road of imagining to be the one to show Owen all over again what it was like to be touched, to be pleasured, and his mind was filled with images of his pale chest bare and arching under Tony's fingers.

Tony shook his head a little harder, irritated with himself that he had gotten up to stop thinking about Owen and now he was thinking of him in far worse ways. Owen's eyes seemed glued to him in curiosity or maybe confusion since Tony probably looked like he was drunk with all this head shaking. He suddenly felt open and vulnerable under that gaze and uncomfortable as something flitted through his nerves and he backed away from the door.

"Just try to not stay up too late..." Tony mumbled, as he quickly turned away to resist the crazy urges that were popping into his head to go and sit on that desk and strip the other man. He just needed to get laid, that's all, that's the only reason why he was reacting like this. It was only because he'd been so absorbed in his work lately that he hadn't gone out and now his sexual frustration was leaking out on poor Owen. Tomorrow he'd have to go out and find a bar to fix that in.

Meanwhile on Asgard, Heimdall was facing a far more troubling issue of trying to explain that Loki, the adopted son of Laufey that had almost destroyed Joteunheim by breaking every rule and trust imaginable on Asgard, was still alive after his fall into the abyss. Odin's face showed no emotion, nothing but his stern and calculating look in his eye and his jaw tight to hold back any flicker of care. Frigga had her hands clamped over her mouth and tears in her eyes at the thought of her son, adopted or not, of the boy that she had held in her arms and raised still being safe and whole. Tears of joy that can't be held back as she trembled, knowing she could do nothing but sit there and relish the fact that her Loki wasn't dead and she hadn't entirely lost a son after all.

"He lives? Is he well?!" Thor all but shouted.

Thor's own facial features were a combination of shock from the way his jaw dropped and eyes were widened but his eyes held nothing but love and worry for his brother. The only look in his eyes that he would ever hold for Loki despite the tricks he may play or the evil he may cast.

Heimdall nodded and it wasn't his place to hide any information from the royal family of Asgard. No matter what it was, even including the pain of the traitor prince of Asgard that froze him solid in ice as he allowed the Jotuns to march across the bifrost.

"His mind is not well. The insanity that gripped him, or perhaps the fall, has wiped his memory clean like a slate. But physically speaking he is well."

Thor spun to face his father, unable to sit still during a moment like this, his mind whirling and his muscles tense.

"Then Loki needs us, yes? He needs to be brought home!"

Frigga looked like she was about to nod in agreement until her lovely head fell from her shoulders but Odin held up a hand with a somber expression.

"He cannot. He betrayed you, me, and all of Asgard. To allow him back now that the people know of his true birth...It would cause riots. I cannot allow Loki's return."

Thor looked crushed for all of two seconds before a new idea took root in his mind.

"Then with the bifrost broken, you must summon the dark energy to send me to Earth for him!" Odin's expression changed none and Thor knelt down confront of his father to try and express his humble need to be there for his brother and show Odin how much being able to do this would mean to him.

"And lose both my sons...?" Frigga whispered.

Thor turned his eyes on his mother and softened as he gave her a small smile.

"Nay, think not of it like that mother. Think of it as your sons being together and insuring their safety instead of one being lost and alone and the other merely being alone. We won't be lost."

She didn't look convinced but Odin nodded slowly.

"Give me time to muster the energy I'll need my son..."

Unaware of his lost family in the sky above, Loki continued his new and unknown life as Owen in the Stark tower, uneasily sneaking around between the rooms in search of a place to shower. He could have sworn it'd make more sense for the shower to be in the same room as the toilet but that room had nothing but the toilet and sink and left him confused and in dire need to rinse the sweat off his body from the training and tests yesterday.

His eyes burned from lack of sleep, unable to either focus back on his book or fall asleep after his late night visit from Tony. Something about the man disturbed him. Or maybe it was just because he was so unsettled in a world he didn't know while Tony could strut around knowing exactly who he was and use him as a guinea pig.

All he wanted right now wasn't for his memories to come back, but for to be left alone to deal with himself by himself for just a little while. How was he supposed to come to terms to who he is or whoever he was in his past with people poking and prodding at him all day? And barging into his room at night... Although he found himself thinking that maybe it would have been easier to fall asleep last night if Tony had just stayed with him. He had a feeling that past, present or future, he didn't deal well with being alone and the only time he was around other people was when they wanted to treat him as a science experiment.

When he finally found what must be the bathroom with nothing but a glass window through the middle of the room and a sink. On the other side of the glass he could see a ridge on the floor to keep water in, drains, and three different nozzles that would spray water, but what he couldn't find, was the door to get in. Pressing his hands against the glass, he experimentally pushed at each panel until he felt one budge and allowed him access inside of the shower. It only took a few more minutes until he figured out how to turn on and adjust the shower settings, strip off his clothes, and let the hot water rush over his body relaxing his muscles.

Meanwhile at the entrance to Stark Tower, Tony was trudging home, stripping off his jacket in exhaustion as he entered the elevator and pressed the button for his home floor, wanting nothing more than a hot shower to wash away the stress himself. It wasn't easy sitting through business meetings today. He usually left these kinds of things to Pepper but with the way things were between them...he sighed and shook his head. He could never admit it but Pepper always had a spark that he lacked and he'd never be able to handle these kinds of things as well as she did. Not to mention he lacked the patience. Especially while sitting in a room of boring old geezers while his mind kept wandering to the fact that he could be alone in a room with a fascinating man with long raven locks. Out of the corner of Tony's eye he kept thinking he saw a flash of emerald eyes before he'd have to remind himself that it was just his imagination getting carried away. Until the meeting blissfully ended and he rushed away as if the room was on fire.

"Jarvis, cancel the rest of my appointments for today. I'm not stepping foot outside this building again." He demanded as the elevator came to a stop with a soft chime. He needed to get to work on something that actually interested him; Owen's origins.

But not before that shower. He peeked into Owen's room on his way to his own, disgruntled and hating to admit a bit disappointed when he found it empty. Erik must have borrowed him to get started on his own experiments while Tony was away, right? Nothing wrong with that, Tony thought as he stripped off his shoes, shirt and tie and made his way towards the bathroom as he started to let his fingers unclasp the buckle of his belt to slide it from his hips.

Tony' had just flicked down his zipper as he opened the door to the bathroom and stopped dead in his tracks as he looked up. The first thing he noticed was that the room was warm, and a thin steam filled it, as if someone had been running the hot water. The second thing he noticed, was that someone had been running the hot water. And that someone had just stepped out of the shower, dripping wet as they fumbled for a towel and also froze in their own tracks as Tony opened the door. Tony and Owen's eyes met and time came to a screeching halt. Tony could see the uncertainty and alarm in Owen's green eyes and as Tony sucked in a loud breath the illusion was shattered and time moved forward again. Owen's brain started working again and if possible, his eyes widened even more as he jumped back to hide himself back in the shower, slipping and falling backward with a loud thud.

Tony's own body was automatically moving forward as soon as he saw him going down, reaching him too late to stop that sickening thud of his body hitting the ceramic floor, but not too late to wrap his arms around him in an attempt to stop any further damage. Never too late for that, right? The water was still pouring down, making Tony wonder if Owen even knew how to turn the shower off as his pants got soaked through. It wasn't his pants Tony was concerned about though, as the fabric grew heavy with water and clung uncomfortably to his skin. It was the pale, naked figure in his arms, that hadn't moved since he grabbed it.

"Owen?" Tony whispered, probably not as loud as he should have if he actually wanted Owen to actually hear him over the falling water.

He ran a hand through the long black hair and cursed himself, thinking that the last thing that he needed was this amnesia alien to gain amnesia about having amnesia due to another hit to the head. But he felt no bumps beneath his palm, nor saw any blood dripping down to dye the water red that was collecting at the bottom of the shower. Owen looked up at him startled and confused and maybe a bit hurt from the fall. Poor guy didn't know his real name much less what to do if someone walks in on you naked. Tony was sure that there was some sort of formal protocol for this type of thing, but since when was Tony Stark one to follow rules and regulations?

All Tony knew was that his body panicked of it's own accord when he saw Owen falling to get hurt and it took a hell of a lot to make someone like Tony panic. And now he was sitting there in Tony's arms, water droplets clinging to his soft, bare, oh so very bare skin and sitting on those long dark eyelashes. And Tony definitely knew the protocol to having someone sexy and naked in your arms. His heart hammered wildly against his chest and air got caught in his throat as he leaned forward, and their lips hesitated, mere inches apart from each other, close enough to feel their breaths on one another skin. His own skin felt like it was tingling, every nerve in his body alive and dancing from anticipation before Tony crushed their lips together, his arms tightening around Owen's body as he pressed him back against the wall, kissing him as if he needed it to survive instead of air.

Owen's lips were soft and parted with a quiet, surprised; "Oh-" when their lips pressed together. His arms shook slightly as he wrapped them around Tony's bare chest, and Tony wasn't sure if it was to keep himself steady or from lust and the need to touch. Owen had no memories, meaning he was acting on base instinct. And the fact that his natural response was to cling to Tony, only spurred Tony on, adding pressure to the kiss to make it rougher, knowing that when they pulled away, there'd be a bruise left on Owen's lips.

But being only human, Tony had to pull away for air, hearing Owen gasping for his own breath against him. But it was that deep breath, that literally step away and a deep breath that brought Tony crashing back to reality. He was kissing a guy with amnesia. If that wasn't sleazy, he didn't know what was. He quickly jerked away and looked away so that Owen couldn't see into his eyes, and he couldn't see Owen's eyes or expression to him pulling away.

"Sorry I-uh...I should have knocked." Tony mumbled as he stood up and turned the water off. He looked anywhere and everywhere in the bathroom except for at Owen, knowing the sight of him sprawled on the shower floor would take away every ounce of Tony's self control again. He grabbed the towel and tossed it down to Owen before quickly walking away, his every footstep making a squishing noise against the carpet as he walked away to remind him of what he just did.

Owen was left behind with a dark red towel draped awkwardly across him and a baffled and almost sad expression on his face. He wasn't exactly sure what had just happened. At first there had been the shock and humiliation of Tony seeing him naked but then...

He stood up, quickly drying himself off and hurrying to get dressed with a flush of embarrassment still across his skin. As the fog on the mirror vanished, he could see his lips a dark red and swollen color, a bruised color. He wasn't sure what had been happening but he hadn't wanted it to stop. It felt right. Tony felt natural against him. His arms, his hands, his...lips... His every movement felt like a dance against Owen like a puzzle being fitted together. Except for where Tony's so called arc reactor pressed painfully against his chest, it's metal digging into his skin as Tony had deepened the kiss. His curiosity still clawed at him over knowing why something like that was in his chest but he got the idea that he wouldn't even be able to look at Tony for awhile much less ask him about it.

Quickly pulling his clothes back on, Owen went straight from the bathroom to his bedroom to lock the door and regain his breath as his heart finally started to slow down from the adrenaline rush. He licked his lips and could still taste Tony and quickly shook that thought out of his head. Lately, flashes of his memories had been coming back at every little notion or flicker of emotion but when Tony kissed him, there had been nothing. His mind had gone blank and simply let his body enjoy the action. For once, he hadn't been worried about the past, but the future, and that had felt great. Maybe he wouldn't need the past if this was the kind of future he could have.


	5. Restored

Owen awoke that morning to dark skies covered with storm clouds rather than the sunny morning that usually streamed through the windows. Instead of sunlight, the windows were being covered with thick rain and occasional flashes of lightning followed by the deep rumble of thunder.

He crept out of bed, placing a hand against the cool glass to watch the storm in morbid fascination. The rain was gentle and calming and he found that he liked the sound. But everytime there was a flash of lightning, his body went rigid and tense with fear and everytime thunder crashed, he flinched. He couldn't decide if he wanted to watch or hide, but when lightning stuck a nearby billboard with a deafening crack, it made up his mind for him and he quickly hurried from the room, stumbling in his haste to get away from the windows.

"J-Jarvis, where's Tony?" He accidentally asks the question running through his mind out loud and hopes the AI system doesn't analyze it as a sign of weakness.

"In his lab sir. If you'll enter the elevator, I'll take you to the floor." Came the robotic response, and Owen thanked his lucky stars that he remembered the moving box was called an elevator so he wouldn't have to ask any stupid questions as Jarvis took him down to Tony's labs.

Tony was easy enough to find, and down closer to the ground, the thunder didn't seem to loud, but Owen still wrapped his arms around himself as he hurried over to where Tony was and then did his best to act as if he was just on a casual stroll and found himself here.

Tony however, saw right through that act, and raised an eyebrow as he set down his screwdriver from whatever he was working on. His heart hadn't actually been in his work today anyways. His body moved on autopilot, his hands knowing exactly what to do without having to think, as Tony's thoughts tried to settle on more important things.

More important things like, for example, what had possessed him to kiss Owen in the shower. He kept going over the formula and variables in his head and it just didn't add up. Ok, well maybe it did a little when he sumed it up as: A stranger falls into his home multiplied by the fact that it was a sexy stranger, plus the fact that Tony was a well known whore, plus the fact that he was naked and vulnerable and wet and divided by what guy could resist that definitely equaled kissing Owen.

But when he looks up and sees Owen in his lab he forgets about all that and all he can think about is trying to remember the exact moment when his body decided that wanting to kiss Owen would be hidden in his subconious and waiting to attack at the right moment. Maybe it was when he woke up to the man curled up in the chair by his bed looking just too innocent. Or maybe it was the seductively powerful way he handled that staff during the experiments. Or maybe it was somehow right now with the almost lustful gaze that those emerald eyes were throwing at him.

"What brings you down here?" Tony almost stutters instead of having some snappy and witty comeback, since he had been planning on avoiding Owen for awhile after the bathroom inncident."

Owen's flinch answered the question for him as thunder crashed again and Tony chuckled in amusement.

"Don't tell me you're scared of storms."

"Of course not." Owen snapped. "Storms are natural and there's nothing to fear while inside this building-" but that didn't stop him from flinching again. "But I can't seem to stop my body from reacting to that sound... It's not my fault. It's not fear."

Tony was going to mock him for being scared of storms but his confusion makes his teasing tone drop before he opens his mouth.

"Irrational fears are against judgement." Tony murmured, hoping that Owen had actually been scared of thunderstorms in the past and that this wasn't a reaction from whatever happened to Owen in space to traumatize the memories out of him. Either way, the best way get someone through a fear, was to distract them. He'd just have to change the subject. He looked up at Owen and smiled softly.

"Ready for a story?" Tony asked.

Owen looked at him suspiciously. "What kind of story?"

Tony tapped the blue glow under his shirt and his finger made a small beating sound against whatever it was under there.

"I told you that this was a story for another day. Well today is another day."

Owen takes a few steps closer to Tony, trying to not let the excitement of his curiosity being solved show to much as his senses are already starting to tune out the sounds of the storm in anticipation.

"So? What is it then?"

Tony sighed, running an exhausted hand through his hair.

"It's an arc reactor..."

"I already know that fact." Owen snipped, casting him a careful look, warning him to stop withholding information from him, and for some reason Tony felt himself slip and give in.

"It's keeping me alive. It's keeping shrapnel from inching into my heart and it conviniently also powers my iron man suit."

For that response, Owen was left speechless and with an obvious confused expression on his features. Tony smirked bitterly and kicked his desk to force his chair to roll backward across the room and skids to a stop infront of a wall with a button. Pressing it, another wall lifts, revealing several suits. One was large, bulky, and grey. Another was red, gold, and battered as if it'd been hit by a train. The suits continued in a line, each one different, improved, and less beat up than the previous one.

"Iron man suits..." Owen mumbled to himself, to explain to himself what these things infront of him were, as he walked over to run his hand over the gold metal of one. The gold gleamed, beaconking to him, taunting him with memories of a golden helmet with horns, of golden armor, a golden staff, a golden palace and a golden throne. He shook his head, releasing the memories back into the abyss of being forgotten and as his memories cleared, he saw only himself and Tony reflected in the gold armor. The blue glow of the arc reactor was obvious in the reflection, and Owen turned to continue to staring at it for a moment before he looked back up at Tony.

"But you said it's keeping you alive? Why?" He walked over to Tony, close enough to lift his hand and place it over the arc. "What tried to kill you?"

Tony grimanced at the question, and Owen felt like he should be sorry for asking something obviously painful but he couldn't stop himself. He felt like he NEEDED to know.

"Someone I was close to. The closest thing I had to a dad besides, well, my dad. But turns out he had a real bad habit of trying to kill me." Tony shrugged it off, looking away to hide the hurt in his eyes that thinking of Obediah always brought. The man had practically raised him and in the end, he had been deturmined to kill him just for profit.

Owen felt a flash of protectiveness towards Tony, and fury towards whoever betrayed him. He swayed and flinched as a stronger flashback came back to him, one of him looking up at two men. One blonde, with a long red cape, hanging upside down and hanging onto him but his focus was on the older man beyond him, holding onto the blonde man with a stern and pained look in his eye that wasn't covered by the eyepatch. His own sense of betrayal overcame Owen and literally brought him to his knees, as he collapsed, holding his head with both hands and trembling as the flashback tried to rip apart his mind as it forced its way back in.

He could hear Tony asking, shouting, if he's alright but it's muffled to Owen's own ears, his eyes wide with shock and his body shaking as it fought this flashback. He could feel Tony's hands on his shoulders, but couldn't tell if he was shaking him, trying to shake him out of this, or if it was his own body shaking and Tony was merely trying to keep him still. He assumed he was trying to keep him still as he feel the hands move from his shoulders, and strong arms wrap around him, holding him close to Tony's chest with one hand below his shoulderblade and the gently tangled in his hair, trying to keep his head tucked against Tony's shoulder. Tony must have given up on trying to shout loud enough to penetrate Owen's mind because now all he could hear were soft shushing noises and something close to "It's going to be ok" being repeated over and over again.

It wasn't going to be ok. Not for Loki.

Loki.

Loki Owen- no, Odinson.

No.

Layufeyson.

Loki let out a shrill scream, a mixture of pain as his memories ripped back into his mind, being unlocked and assaulting his psych, and of anger and rage of what the memories were. Odin and his lies, his false father that decieved him all his life by making him believe he could actually be king one day, when Loki was destined to be a king. But not of Asgard, of Jotenheim. The way he raised him, cruelly punishing Loki and his tricks because of a secret fear of Loki one day becoming like his Frost giant ancestors, his real family. Then his real father, Laufey, who has abandonded him to die just because he had been born small.

There was blinding, hot, white pain running through his veins as he remembered Thor. The older brother and the rightful heir to Asgard with his arrogant temper and his mighty hammer that should have been Loki's faithful weapon. Thor, who was probably sitting on the throne right now, without a care in the world now that Loki was gone.

He panted as less painful memories started slowly leaking in, filling in the gaps of his mind like broken pavement being smoothed over. His jade eyes rolled up into his head for a moment as he took deep breaths, his shivers slowly subsidding and the muffled roar in his ears dying down to allow him to hear what was going on. He could hear Tony's shhhs now and vivdly feel his hand rubbing small circles on his back in an attempt to sooth him. Loki bristled to the touch, a different anger washing over him as he jerked out of Tony's grasp. He stared incredulously at the human before him, at the glowing light in his chest, and feeling none of the remorse or protectiveness for him that he had felt just minutes ago over his story. He lashed out, grabbing Tony by the throat with a hand tightly clamped around his neck to throw him backwards and pin him down to the floor.

Tony was only shocked for a second before raising an arm to shove Loki off, but Loki was quicker, grabbing his arm and pinning it down above his head as he straddled Tony's waist to keep him down, baring over him like a rabid animal with a crazed look in his green eyes.

"O-Owen-" Tony chocked out as his free hand grabbed Loki's wrist to the hand that was around his throat, cutting off his air.

"No." Loki cut him off with a harsh tone and tightened his grip around his neck. "You dare? You, a pathetic sack of human meat, dared to give me human name? To claim me? To EXPERIMENT on me as if I were some lowly beast to be turned into your test subject?"

Loki could see a hint of fear in Tony's eyes now, quickly overshadowed by confused and hurt and a hint of anger that the man he'd taken care of, that he'd been trying to help and even given in to kissing, was now threatening his life. Loki grinned maniacally at that. This human had seen him naked, had thought he was good enough to not only lay his hands on Loki, but to kiss him, to violate him and his body shivered at the memory of Tony's lips on his, but at the moment he wasn't sure why that memory made him feel calmer for a second.

"I am Loki. Of Asgard. And I am greater than you and your suits could ever hope to be. You were a fool to think my memories returning would be for your benefit."

He could see Tony's brown eyes starting to flutter shut now. The emotions gone, leaving them blank and almost lifeless as the human struggled to keep awake. Loki was going to sit here and watch him slowly die as punishment for turning him into a guinea pig while he was blinded by anger and in an irrational state of mind.

However Tony lucked out, and in that second that his lungs were burning and his arc reactor's light was flickering as his heartbeat started to slow, the thunder crashed again, louder than before, reminding Loki what had brought him down here in the first place. The fear of the thunder and what followed it.

Thor.

There was no mistaking a storm like this, the calling card of the dear son of Odin. A soft green glow enveloped Loki as he let go of Tony's throat and sat up, ignoring Tony's grateful gasps of air and the way his chest heaved with each breath. The glow faded, leaving the human clothes gone and him dressed in his armor again, his long green cape, dark leather jacket and golden horned helm. He grinned down at Tony's baffled expression before vanishing in a wisp of green smoke that left no sound.

Just as the green smoke cleared away, there was the heavy crash of something metal smashing into Tony's lab door and knocking it clear across the room. In the light of the hallway, a tall man's blonde hair was almost glowing, his crystal blue eyes full of both despair and hope as he looked around the lab. Light gleamed off of his silver armor as he strode over to Tony, his long red cape swaying behind him and a hammer clutched tightly in one hand.

"Where is Loki?" He demanded, his loud voice echoing off the walls.

"G-gone..." Was all that Tony could whisper, without having a chance to wonder who this newcomer was or how he got past his security as darkness welcomed him into its arms and he passed out.


	6. Reunion

Memoria Damnum

Chapter 6:

Author notes: I'm sorry, the last chapter was rushed because I've been having an extreme writer's block with this story and the fact that I've been working two jobs and haven't really had a day off since August doesn't help. It's not going to be as long as I had originally planned and since I was taking so long with the chapters I thought people might have been getting tired of waiting for the "real" Loki to show up.

xXx

Tony woke up, remembering nothing that he had dreamt of, but rolling over and for some reason he had expected to see Owen sleeping soundly, curled up beside him. He shook his head and his eyes traveled to the recliner where he next hoped Owen would be, only to see a disappointed looking man, with long blonde hair slumped forward with his hands on his knees as he spoke to Eric in a hushed tone and a strange dialect as if he was on stage for a Shakespearean play.

Everything rushed back to Tony in that instant and his heart tightened. Owen wasn't Owen, wasn't the innocent and lost man that Tony had tried to take an attachment to. He was the Norse God of chaos and mischief, Loki. Psychotic, and cruel, and yet Tony had held him in his arms. He'd seemed so gentle and lost, and if Erik had told him right then that he was Loki, Tony would have burst out laughing.

Erik had only mentioned Loki briefly in his reports about Thor, only because it had been Loki who had sent the Destroyer to New Mexico to kill Thor, and Loki who Thor had to return to Asgard to fight for the throne. Tony had seen the pictures from New Mexico. The destruction and chaos that almost eliminated the small town off the map all together and he closed his eyes, feeling sick to think that he'd kissed the man that caused it all.

But once his eyes were closed, his memories brought back that kiss. Those dark eyelashes and hypnotic emerald eyes, and the feel of his smooth skin under Tony's hands and his heart ached to have it all back. Psychotic or not.

The hushed voices had stopped and Tony re-opened his eyes to escape his memories of Owe-... Loki. Only to find Erik and the blonde man watching him apprehensively.

"I'm going to assume that's Thor." Tony muttered as Erik stood to come stand by his bedside.

"You'd be correct." Erik sighed as he checked over Tony's bandages around his bruised neck. "And you're not going to be happy when you find out who Owen is."

"Loki." Tony muttered even quieter than before, closing his eyes as Erik look at him with shock that he'd already known. "Yeah. He kind of had a mental meltdown and all the cats went scampering out of the bag."

"He must have fallen here when he fell from the bifrost..." came the deep, husky voice that must have belonged to Thor.

"Or he fell and Tony accidentally grabbed him." Erik pointed out and Tony put a hand to his head, feeling a headache coming on. He wasn't in the mood to have more than one person talking much less having to think about theories of how he landed himself with an amnesiac God...

"Wait." Tony barked, opening his eyes to glare at Thor. "Erik diagnosed him with emotional amnesia. What the hell happened up there that made him not want to remember who he was?"

Erik tried to argue that he wasn't that sort of doctor anyway just to be hushed by Tony with a slap on the arm. Thor, looked more like a kicked puppy than any man of that size should be able to.

"I do not think I can tell you what was going through Loki's mind, then or now... but while I was in exile he learned that he was not Odin's true son. I do not know if it was his tricks and mischief, or insanity from the truth that drove him to-"

"Odin?" Tony broke into Thor's explanation. "Odin sounds like Owen, doesn't it?" He looked over to Erik for confirmation who nodded thoughtfully. Mystery number two solved at least.

He could hear Thor trying to explain what had happened, but it was only background noise to Tony as he brought up a digital screen in front of him, sitting up in bed to type a few keys in and greet Jarvis. He didn't want to hear Thor's explanation of what might have maybe happened he thinks maybe blah blah blah. He wanted the truth from the God of lies. Which seemed like it'd be the challenge of his life.

Gathering photos from the security cameras over the past few days, Tony could finally put Loki together like a puzzle. His similar name to his adopted father, the Toyota magazine with the symbol that resembled his horned helmet, the fear of thunder, and his weapon skill set. It all added up and made him feel blind that he hadn't noticed it all. After all, he had been inspired by Selvig's work and the bifrost so why wouldn't it make sense that the bifrost was where Owen had come from? That he was a Norse God? He closed his eyes painfully as he recalls Thor mentioning Loki falling.

"How did Loki fall from the bifrost?" He whispered, unaware that Thor and Erik stopped talking to turn and look at him.

"As I said...I do not pretend to know what had been going through his mind but...he did not 'fall' persay...I caught him. And he let go." Thor's words echoed through Tony's mind as he leaned back down on the pillows and let out a deep breath.

Meanwhile across the city, car horns blared as a figure stumbled out of the road, bewildered, and grasping at a mailbox for balance.

"If Thor could do this, so can I." Came the growled response to the car horns and shouts as he backed away, ignoring the wide-eyed and frightened looks from passersby. Thor came to Earth as a mortal, without any power, and somehow prevailed and returned to his former glory. And if a giant oaf like Thor could survive in this world, so could Loki.

Pausing in an ally, he leaned back against the wall and found himself slowly fading, morphing back into Tony's normal clothes that he had been wearing back at the tower to help himself blend in with the mortals. From his spot in the ally, he could still see Stark tower, taller than the others, white and pristine, seeming to glow and beckon him back to it.

Faltering, he tried to ignore the urge to return. He'd tried to kill Tony before he'd recognized the tell-tale signs of Thor's storm coming closer and ran for it. He wouldn't be welcomed back. Not that he should want to go back... He tried to continuously tell himself that he didn't want to go back or be anywhere near Tony, but every time he looked down at his hands and remembered them around Tony's throat he felt a sickness wash over him. Tony, the mortal who had been stupid enough to take him in and try to take care of him. The stupid man who had tried to help him. The idiot who had been gentle, and kind, and caring and had such a soft touch...

Loki shook his head, wrapping his arms around himself and glowering at the tower. He was convinced that Tony and Erik had been trying to use him. Use him as a guinea pig and maybe even as a weapon. But that argument in his mind was weak and feeble and did nothing to argue against how Tony's lips had tasted against his own.

He'd kissed him, then left. In Loki's experience, people only kissed when they wanted sex, and yet, Tony had backed off completely. Loki stepped out of the ally, glancing around uneasily. Maybe he would go back. Not for Tony, not to make sure he was ok after what he'd done to him...but just for answers. To demand to know why they had been keeping him, testing him...kissing him...

That was all...

Or at least that was what Loki was trying to convince himself.

Unknowing that the Mischief God was currently heading back to the tower, Erik stood at the stove with a small smile on his lips as he fried up a pan full of bacon and hash browns.

"I forgot how much you could eat." He chuckled, glancing back at the blonde God who was sitting at a bar stool, devouring his way through a second box of poptarts.

"And I forgot how much I loved poptarts. I do wish Asgard had these." came the muffled reply from Thor as he eyed the bacon sizzling on the pan.

Erik grinned back at Thor, making sure to leave some for Tony and himself before dumping the rest of the pan onto a plate and handing it over to Thor. It was almost midnight, but the only thing Erik was really good at cooking was breakfast and Thor's stomach hadn't been eager on the idea of waiting until morning to eat.

It felt nice to see the God again, and Erik never thought he'd be able to call a myth from his childhood a good friend of his. It was a shame that Jane was across the ocean at the moment, unfortunately staying with another man, that Erik didn't have the heart to tell Thor about. He'd simply told Thor that she was away on a work trip, and tried his best to ignore the crestfallen look in those bright blue eyes.

"Loki isn't evil...is he?" Erik asked as those blue eyes turned towards him, emotions easy to read and full of pain.

"No." Thor replied stubbornly, and even if one day Loki killed eighty people in two days, he'd still refuse to believe that he was capable of true evil. "He has a vicious way of lashing out when he is hurt or offended...and his tricks win him no friends. But blood or not, he is my brother, and he is not evil."

Erik nodded sadly, wishing he knew if he should believe Thor, or the myths he's always read that painted Loki as a heartless villain. But then again, some of the cruelest people aren't that way because they are heartless but because they have too much heart. Too many fragile emotions and no place to put any of them. He resists the urge to ask if the myths about Slepnir are true, but it feels too much like walking on thin ice, and he wouldn't know how to ask in the first place.

They decided to set Thor up in what was Owen's room, hoping that staying in the same bed that his brother had been in would bring him some small sort of peace of mind. And the only other option was the couch, but Erik couldn't imagine the God of Thunder curled up on a couch, trying to not roll off in the middle of the night with a small throw blanket covering his legs, considering he was probably used to king sized beds and fur blankets.

After saying good night to Thor, Erik carries the tray of bacon and hash browns into Tony's room, setting it on his bedside table when he sees him still asleep. He holds back a chuckle. He'd only meant to stay for a single day to see if the machine that Tony had built worked. Now here he was, still here after several days and acting like a house maid. He'd never imagined that he'd end up getting in this deep, and it's only a matter of days now until Nick Fury or Agent Coulson calls him back to S.H.I.E.L.D. demanding to know what had taken him so long. Sighing, he headed back out of the room to make a phone call to them, completely missing the dark shadow that had slipped down the hallway as he left Tony's room.

The figure shrouded in darkness caught Tony's door before it closed and slipped inside while Erik's back was turned, busy dialing a number into his cell phone. The room smelled like bacon, and was pitch black with the exception of the soft blue glow from the arc reactor.

Stepping closer, Loki became barely illuminated by the dim light, his emerald eyes seeming to sparkle with an unearthly glow as his fingers brushed over the arc reactor and his gaze lingered on the bandages around Tony's throat.

The rage and insanity that had gripped him and driven him to lash out at the human was gone, making him feel an odd sense of regret for a rare moment in his life. There were few things that Loki ever regretted, and the feeling was strange to him. But was it regret that was making him brush his fingers sadly over the bandages and his heart flutter, or something else?

Tony's lips were parted, small, shallow breaths escaping through them as he slept. He could hear Thor's boisterous snores coming from the other room, and Erik's hushed voice getting quieter as he walked further away, leaving Loki alone in this moment. Leaving Tony alone and defenseless.

It'd be so easy to kill him right now. To pick up one of his many hidden daggers and plunge it through the neck, severing the spinal cord, killing him without even waking him. But instead Loki finds himself not even reaching for a dagger. He's slowly unwrapping the bandages to look at his morbid artwork that he's left on Tony's body with a sad sigh.

Why did Tony have to be an idiot? Why couldn't he have just handed Loki over to the authorities, and let faceless men poke and prod at him so that when Loki snapped and remembered his true self, it'd be nameless bodies that he painted the walls red with blood with? No, it had to be Tony. With his smile and his ego and his snark and sarcasm that wasn't too far off from Loki's own sense of humor.

Worst of all, why did he have to kiss him and leave this urge slowly building up inside of Loki until it was almost unbearable to return the action? They were alone with no one but the security cameras to play witness. Just one quick kiss and he could be gone and whatever these feelings that were bubbling inside could be put to rest.

Loki ignored the little voice in his mind demanding to know WHY he needed to return the kiss so badly, because that was something he had no answer for. He just kept repeating 'one quick kiss and I'll be gone', in his mind, over and over again to help convince himself as he leaned over and his lips barely brushed Tony's.

"And here I thought you'd kill me if you came back." Tony's lips moved under his and Loki almost jumped out of his skin, pulling back like a startled deer in headlights.

But Tony was quick, grabbing the back of Loki's neck to keep him close, despite the angered growl that escaped his lips at the action.

"How long have you been awake?" Loki growled out, trying to keep the anger in his voice but unwillingly softening his gaze.

"Long enough." Despite the pain still in his neck, Tony smirks, pulling Loki back down closer to their original position with barely an inch between their lips, leaving it up to Loki to finish what he had started.

Hesitating, he listened carefully to any sounds of Thor or Erik before closing the space between them.

Just one quick kiss, and I'll be gone. Their lips met, soft and uncertain, but aching for more as Tony let his hand wander from Loki's neck, up into his hair to play with the long strands.

Just one quick kiss, and I'll be gone., Loki deepened the kiss, his tongue flicking out to taste Tony's lower lip, his teeth nipping gently as he coaxes Tony to part his lips and allow him access into his mouth.

Just one quick kiss, and I'll be gone... he let out a soft whimpering moan as he stopped supporting himself on his arms and laid across Tony's chest, feeling the arc reactor pressing into his own chest. Tony's other hand traveled down Loki's back, holding him close and his mouth was hotter than he'd imagined with a slight minty taste.

Just one kiss... and Loki was clawing at Tony's shoulders, running his hands up and down his arms as he tried to find somewhere for them to stay.

And I'll be gone... Tony kept his grip firm around Loki as he rolled to the side, taking the other man with him as they parted the kiss, panting for air with a wild look in both of their eyes. Tony ran his hand through Loki's hair continuously as they both laid on their sides facing each other as if he was afraid that Loki would vanish if he stopped touching him. Paranoid that this might just all be a hallucination from the sedatives that Erik had given him.

"Stay..." Tony whispered, pleading, and Loki could see in his eyes how painful it was for his pride to have to ask such a thing.

You said just one kiss and you'd be gone...an angry voice in Loki's head hissed at him as he slowly nodded, closing his eyes and leaning closer into Tony's embrace. He had always been a liar anyway. What was one more lie to himself?

Tony had his arms wrapped around Loki, but Loki's own arms were folded to his own chest and tucked between their bodies, uncertain of what to do with them.

"That was one hell of an apology." Tony said quietly, trying to not disturb Loki in case he was trying to sleep as he tried to stay awake as long as possible. Tony didn't know what brought Loki back, or what spurred him to climb into his bed, but he wouldn't question it. All he knew right now was that he was going to have one hell of an explanation to try and give Erik and Thor in the morning.


End file.
